Fix A Breaking Lock
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: Sequel to 'He is Her Key'. DRAMIONE. After a kiss, Draco freaks out, and it takes some hot coffee and a lot of arguing to sort him out! Warnings inside- please read them!


**WARNINGS: there is ****_no _****sex! Just talk of it! M/M talk at one point, a few swears, and lots of arguing!**

"Hermione, wait," Draco was had broken the magical kiss he shared with Hermione, and instantly let go of her. "I can't do this," he rose from the floor swiftly, waved his wand over himself, cleaning all the makeup marks, and headed for the door. Hermione looked up, dazed, to where Draco was stood; his clothes, face, and hair were all completely spotless, and so were his emotions. But then there was she. Hermione was lounging on her bed, her mouth half open from the kiss, red lipstick very askew, and every item of eye makeup she owned was dripping down her sodding face. Hermione's hair was more out of place than before, and her dress was starting to get very sticky against her legs. She'd kicked off her black evening heels when she'd thrown herself onto her bed, so her badly painted toenails were showing. _In conclusion_, Hermione thought, _I'm a mess, and Draco's pristine as usual. _  
_Which is odd, _Hermione's second inner voice mentioned, _considering his love life is a mystery to all and, well, you're an open book. _  
"Why?" She knew, of course, but she was desperate to hold him in her room for a few moments longer. Both Draco and Hermione could hear plates clattering but only lulled dinner conversations.  
"I just can't," Draco turned Hermione's door knob, and set out for downstairs. When Hermione heard his footsteps die, she swished her wand, and the door slammed dramatically. She cursed herself; she was never hung up over men, _ever_, not even Ron. She'd gotten over that pretty quickly. But maybe that was due to Draco.

It was one in the morning when Hermione woke up. Truly, she'd never been asleep, only napping, but nobody needed to know that. She hadn't touched her steak, though why Draco had brought her steak was beyond her; they were having pasta. She hadn't gotten changed, either, and she still looked a bloody mess. She woke up because there was a knock on her door. Harry. "Hello, Mione," Harry didn't wait for an answer before edging into Hermione's room. He still didn't know about Hermione and Ron. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing," unfortunately, Hermione sleepy voice and 'just stopped crying' voice sounded identical, and Harry wasn't fooled.  
"Lies," he perched at the end of Hermione's bed and held his arm out for a hug. Hermione got up robotically and weaved herself under her best friend's arm.  
"I'm fine," Hermione _did _sound like she'd been crying, in all fairness. But she hadn't; not for a few hours, anyway. "Really."  
"No, you're not." Harry held Hermione at arms length and sighed. "Is it Ron?"  
Hermione laughed bitterly, "no, it is not Ron. Ron is no longer my problem. Ron likes Muggle girls. I am not Muggle enough for him." Hermione felt like she had to spell it out. "Has everyone gone?"  
"Yes," Harry answered Hermione's question whilst he processed what he'd just been told. "So you're not together?"  
"No!" Hermione snapped, then apologised. "Sorry, it's just... I'm tired and Ron came for his ring yesterday and I just... can't."  
"Sh," Harry soothed Hermione by stroking the top of her head, "tell me what happened."  
"I moved on," Hermione summed up, "and they moved on from me pretty _damn _quickly."  
"Who?" Harry asked.  
"Draco," Hermione muttered, and nuzzled into Harry a little more.  
"Oh," Harry blinked twice, then looked down. "Really?"  
"Yes, _really._ Honestly, Harry, is it that hard to understand?" Hermione felt herself tensing up.  
"A little, but it's fine," Harry didn't understand, and it wasn't quite fine. "Come on," Harry deftly took out his wand, and summoned Hermione's bed clothes. "Have a nice sleep, and then it's the weekend. And you know what that means?"  
"What does that mean, Harry?" It meant a lot of things, none of which Hermione wanted to engage in right away.  
"No Draco for two days," Harry nodded once, and stood up, gently putting Hermione down. He left quickly, and let Hermione snuggle into bed. In fact, she was that tired, that she didn't clean her face or brush her hair; she barely got into her pyjama's before nodding off.

It _wasn't _a Draco-free weekend. Hermione had decided to work on Saturday, just to keep busy, when she ran into him. Literally.

"Hermione?" An airy, Scottish, female voice came from behind Hermione when she was helping herself to coffee from the machine. Merlin knows did she need it.  
"Cho?" Strangely enough, Cho Chang was now working in Hermione's office, as of a few months prior, and they'd starting chatting at the coffee machine regularly. "How are you?" Hermione braved a smile, and was greeted with a warm, friendly one.  
"I'm great! I heard about you and Ron, I'm so sorry." Straight to the point, of course.  
"I'm thinking about getting back with him," Hermione commented honestly, and sipped her hot coffee.  
"Really?" Cho acknowledged. "Surely you said he was a crap kisser and-"  
"Well there's worse out there," Hermione said angrily. It wasn't aimed at anyone, and Draco was better than Ron, for sure, but she was still irate. "Anyway, I have _a lot _of catching up to do if I want Tuesday off! See you, Cho!" Hermione smiled widely, cup in hand, and turned on her heels back towards her office.

"You're kidding, right?" Draco loomed over Hermione. She didn't see him standing behind her, and she promptly spilled all of her blistering hot coffee down his front; undoubtedly burning his skin. "Fuck!" He hissed, pushing Hermione away.  
"Bloody hell!" Hermione gasped, and started looking for her wand. "No," she shook her head frantically, "come with me; I have an ice pack in the office." He led Draco to her office, and began searching her top drawer for a ice pack.  
"_Are you fucking kidding me?_"Draco asked, wincing in pain. He took a deep breath, and tried to correct himself. "Are you sodding kidding me?"  
"What?" Hermione furrowed her forehead as she searched. She had no time for petty games.  
Draco stepped forwards. "Ron? You're going to take him up on his offer?"  
"Is this the time?" Hermione grew tired of Draco quickly, and was glad she found an ice pack. She popped it, and threw it at Draco. "Put it on, I have a few more," she carried on searching.  
"Thanks," he curled his lip in indifference when the ice hit his blistering skin. "But you've been ignoring me all day! I went to talk to you and you drench me-"  
"That was an accident!"  
"Still happened!"  
"You kissed me! Was that an accident?!" Hermione sounded eratic, and her eyes were fixed on Draco.  
"No! But it was a mistake!"  
Hermione gasped, clearly hurt. "Maybe I should go back to Ron! At least he didn't call me a Mud Blood for Merlin knows how long!"  
"Only because I loved you, you-" Draco stammered, "-arse!"  
"Well clearly I'm a mistake and who loves those?!" Hermione pelted a rock hard ice pack at Draco, hitting his shoulder. "And _clearly _you'd rather have the odd shag than a steady relationship!"  
"I'm _sorry_ Hermione!" Draco was shouting, now. "Maybe I just prefer men!" The door was open, and by now everyone could hear their argument.  
"I don't think Blaise does," Hermione threw another ice pack, "because he was hitting on me last night!"  
"It was just banter!" Draco defended.  
"And what? You kissing me, was that just _banter_?!"  
"Well-"  
"No!" Hermione screamed. Her cheeks were inflamed and red, and she shook all over. Arguments were exhilarating, but she didn't want to yell at Draco anymore. "It wasn't! Because you felt it too! Don't lie to me, Draco Malfoy! Don't you dare fucking lie!"  
"Shut up!" Draco was by far louder than Hermione, and his voice triggered tears down her face. More tears caused by him. He lowered his voice to a mere whisper, so Hermione had to be quiet to hear, "I love Blaise, Hermione. Why can't you deal with it?"  
"I want to get back with Ronald, Draco, why can't you deal with that?" Hermione parred.  
"Because you don't love him," Draco sighed, "you love me."  
"So tell me why you kissed me like you meant it?"  
"Because I did!"  
"But you don't now? You don't mean it now, but you also don't want me with Ron? How unfair is that?!"  
"Hermione listen-"  
"Do I sound finished?!" Hermione exploded. "You don't want me, you just want to hold me in limbo and tease me with cheap yet meaningful kisses. And you don't want anyone else to have me because you know I'm always going to dote on you! Yet you stare at me like a love-sick kitten, and you want to speak to me and 'explain' but I've seen you check out my arse three times already and I _know _what you're thinking!" Hermione panted. "_How dare you! _I am not yours to own! Make up your mind, Draco Malfoy!"  
Draco stammered unattractively, and stormed out of the open door. Hermione inwardly regretted what she'd done, but she was glad it was out of her system. She flopped down on her office chair, and spun around out of bordem. It was only a matter of time before someone came in, either demanding an explanation for the ruccus, or to comfort her. Honestly, she hoped it was the former, because she quite _liked _shouting.

Just as she'd suspected, Harry came dashing into Hermione's office. His face was red and blotchy, and his chest was heaving obviously. "Have you been running?" Hermione smirked, and started fiddling with a paper clip.  
"Yeah," Harry spoke between breaths, "well, Kingsley came and told me about a few raised voices up on this floor, and I thought I'd investigate, and Cho pointed me up here," Harry leant on his knees, trying to catch his breath.  
"How long has it been since you've been flying?" Hermione asked casually.  
"Uh, about a year," Harry shrugged, "I've been busy."  
"You need a work out!" Hermione chuckled, and waved her wand. A chair came up behind Harry, and moved so he was pulled up at her desk. "You'll be getting chubby."  
"Ginny _likes _chubby!" Harry smiled, thankful of the friendly banter. "Anyway, who were you shouting with?"  
"Draco," Hermione yawned.  
"Ah," Harry looked down quickly, "that would explain why he's been jinxing random inanimate objects for the past hour?"  
"He has?"  
"Yeah, and he's been muttering under his breath and he won't bloody talk to me."  
"Sorry," Hermione felt guilty.  
"I invited him over for coffee later," Harry admitted shyly.  
"_What?!_"  
"Well, I didn't know it was you two that had been arguing, and we can always go to Hogsmeade or something! We don't _have _to go back home!"  
"No, it's okay. I'll just stay in my room or something." Hermione shook her head, sighing, and really didn't know what to do.

True to her word, Hermione took a cup of tea upstairs, and started working on some filing for the bosses upstairs. She'd gotten into clean night-clothes, and treated herself to a brand new quill. Her tea was still warm when she heard a knock on the door. "Yes?" She swallowed a gulp of tea, and carried on writing recommendations.  
"Hello."  
"Blaise?" Hermione put her quill and cup down, and stared at the man in her doorway. "What _are _you doing here?" Hermione wanted to hex the Slytherin, but she knew that wouldn't help a soul.  
"I want to talk to you," he sat down on Hermione's bed, uninvited. "Look, i know how you feel, I really do understand. And I know that Draco means a lot to you, and I know you mean a lot to him." Blaise shook his head and sighed, "and I also know that he doesn't love me, and I know that I don't love him."  
"Then why are you together?" Hermione felt herself calming at Blaise's words.  
"We're not," Blaise rolled his eyes and laughed, "it's just cheap sex."  
"Oh," Hermione tried to smile, but she didn't really feel that happy. "Then why do you say you're together? Why does he think you're together?"  
"Women," Blaise began, in a voice that seemed used to telling stories, "are very confusing creatures. Beautiful, such as yourself, and willful and head-strong and amazing and feisty. But confusing." Blaise rubbed his forehead, "they are not like men; women don't often like being used for a one night stand, even if they dearly love the person. That is why Draco and I chose each other. I don't love him, and he doesn't love me, but sex is good when it's done right, but," he leaned closer to Hermione and whispered, "it's even better when the other person loves you, and you love them." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Blaise held up his hand; "now, I must take my leave." He stood up and walked to the middle of the room, and apparated away.

Hermione was utterly confused by this weird snippet of a conversation, and decided she needed something stronger than tea. She wrapped a burgundy, silk dressing gown around herself, but on a pair of white slippers, and slunk downstairs, empty cup in hand. Harry _didn't _take Draco to Hogsmeade like he'd said, so Hermione had to awkwardly pour herself a small glass of whiskey after washing up in dead silence. She lingered around to hear some of the boy's conversation.  
"So I said to him, 'Fine then! If you think _drum sticks_'ll work!'" That was Draco, "so he did! He tried using bloody drum sticks!"  
Harry laughed loudly, and cracked open a can of Muggle beer. "Did it work?!"  
"Yes! It was _fucking amazing, _Harry! I tell you, if you ever come over to the dark side," the appropriate nick-name for being gay, apparently, "then try it! It's weird at first, but _oh Merlin!_"  
"Slow down, Draco! I'm happy with Ginny!" Harry chuckled heartily, and slurped his drink. Hermione shook her head in disgust, and sipped her drink quietly. Harry must have heard, though, because he cleared his throat loudly and changed the subject. "But what about Blaise? I mean, sex is all well and good, but-"  
"We broke up," Draco nodded firmly. "Well, we weren't _really _together. It was just a bit of fun, really."  
"Really?" Harry leaned back on his arm chair and stifled a smile. "So you're not interested in anyone?"  
"Harry!" Draco grinned, "I thought you were happy with Ginny?"  
"Oh, I'm happy with Ginny, don't you worry." Harry giggled, then coughed again. "Seriously," his eyes narrowed on Draco, "don't be a dick."

However touched that Harry had stuck up for her, Hermione was mad that Draco hadn't the bollocks to say hello. She downed her last drop of whiskey, and threw the glass out of the window. She picked up her wand from her writing desk, and found a soppy teddy from Ron. She threw the bear up in the air, and started jinxing it left right and centre. "Stupefy! Diffindo!

Confringo!" Finally, the bear disintegrated, and a pile of hot ashes was left on the floor. Hermione kicked off her slippers and shrugged off her dressing gown violently. With tears streaming down her face, she slammed shut the window, and fell face first onto her bed. She was too busy pummelling her pillows to notice a gaunt figure slip into her room. Draco was furious with himself; he'd lost Hermione and made her upset. He made a mental note to _Crucio _himself before the day was done. Hermione was howling unattractively into one of her pillows, and Draco stood over her, watching her sadly. He longed to hold her in his lap, and stroke her cheek and run his hands through his hair and undress her-  
"Off topic," Draco hissed under his breath, startling Hermione. In one movement, she'd reached for her wand, flipped over, and had Draco in her sights.  
"Who goes- oh." She rolled onto her stomach again, and threw her wand on her bedside cabinet.  
"Sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye." Draco found an excuse quickly.  
"You didn't even say hello," Hermione spat.  
"Harry said you were working," Draco shrugged, "I didn't want to distract you."  
"You're not _that _attractive," Hermione lied well, it seemed.  
"Well, sorry for wanting to be friendly." Draco was getting irritated.  
"You were friendly enough last time." Hermione growled, and shifted slightly.  
"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't love Blaise! Okay? Is that better? Is that what you wanted to hear?!" Draco was trying not to raise his voice.  
"Yes," Hermione said quietly. "It's all I wanted to hear."  
But Draco ignored her. "And guess what? I think I like you! I think I like you a lot! So I'm really sorry, Hermione! But that's the truth! And you're pissy and I get that, one-hundred-percent! I do! Because _I'm _pissy with me! And you know what else? I hate myself for getting you angry! And I hate myself for thinking cheap sex would be anything like sex with you! Do you know why? Because I've liked you for a very long time, and I know I shouldn't have done the whole 'pulling pigtails' act on you, because you're way too smart for that, but when you've been brought up to believe that only purebloods are acceptable... well it's hard coming to terms with my own feelings towards the same gender. My parents got that, they did. But if I brought you home in our eighth year?" Draco let out a sarcastic laugh, "I wouldn't have clothes on my back, let alone anything to support you with! And that's all I've wanted to do! All I've ever wanted to do since Harry mention your parents is support you! But I couldn't be there at night to hold you because of the Weasel! How _hard _do you think it is to just sit by whilst the woman you love is going out with, then engaged, then getting married to the man of her dreams! I couldn't take it, and I can't now! And if you're going to sit there with your mouth open, I'm leaving!" Draco was now stood by Hermione's door once more, red in the face, eyes welling with tears. Hermione was, just as Draco had said, staring at him, mouth gaping, in dead silence. She'd sat bolt upright when Draco had started talking again, but she couldn't muster the courage to move, in case she did something wrong. "Fine," he scoffed, "see you at work, Hermione."

"No, I'm not bloody staying!" Draco was shouting at Harry, but Hermione still had barely moved. She was still in shock to the flood of words she'd just heard. Maybe Blaise was right; maybe sex with Ron wasn't great because she only thought she loved him. But she knew that she loved Draco; his harsh words affirmed it. She snapped herself back to reality, and flew off her ex-marital bed. She almost fell down the stairs, and just in time too; Draco was just out the door. She hoped to Merlin that he wouldn't apparate, because she was flying out the front door in her pyjama's with no shoes on. Harry had tried to force a coat on Hermione, but she just shoved him out of the way and continued speeding out the house.  
"Draco?!" She shouted through heavy rain. Her hair was past her shoulder blades and soaked, but Hermione didn't care. She wanted to find Draco, and tell him how she felt; he'd had his turn, it was only fair. She'd gotten to the corner of the street in Godric's Hollow where Ginny and Harry lived when she saw Draco. Hermione was stopped dead in her tracks. Draco's hair was wet and clinging to his face, and his clothes had turned see-through and heavy. He had lit up a cigarette, and was leaning against a Victorian style lamppost smoking it, with one foot pressed against the lamppost, and the other out in front of him. The only indication that he was emotional was his red, puffy face and balled fist. He'd wrapped his black evening jacket around his shoulders, which contrasted heavily with his pale skin and, now transparent, white shirt. He'd been wearing a dark green tie, and he'd undone that, letting it fall down his chest. Harry had mentioned a lunch do with work friends, so Hermione guessed that was why Draco looked so formal. He hadn't responded to her calls, so she walked closer to him, still getting drenched by the never-relenting rain. "Draco," Hermione voice was softer as she entered his bubble.  
Draco let out a world-weary sigh, and looked at Hermione. "What, Hermione?"  
"I never got chance to answer. I'm not going to apologise for being with Ron, but I am sorry for implying you were a man-slut." She looked down, her eyes, too, not just wet from the rain. "Will you forgive me?"  
Draco flicked away his cigarette and stomped it out, then looked at Hermione. He held out one arm, and she worked her way into him. "Here," he covered Hermione's bare arms with his jacket, "I don't want you getting sick."  
"Thanks," Hermione mumbled, and put one of her hands on Draco's hips.  
"Of course I'll forgive you, silly." Draco melted, and pulled Hermione closer into him. He looked down at her and smiled, "I am a bit of a man-slut."  
"I don't blame you; if I was as attractive as you are, I'd sleep around." Hermione smirked.  
"It's just that I haven't found the right person yet, but I think I have now," he smiled sweetly.  
"Really?" Hermione blushed.  
"Yeah," Draco looked exhausted; he had laughter lines indented into his face. "Hermione?"  
"Yes, Draco?"  
"Will you be my girlfriend?"  
Hermione didn't say anything; instead, she reached up an kissed Draco softly on the lips and nodded. The pair cuddled under the stars in the rain for what felt like an eternity; one that they'd happily share together.


End file.
